The House
by FearandLoathingXIX
Summary: The house that Megamind, Minion and Roxanne live in, and everything that happens in it. Family/Future fic
1. Chapter 1

This was largely the product of me realistically wanting to consider Megamind and Roxanne's future in the long term, particularly concerning their home, lifestyle and family.

* * *

It all started with the house. Not just any house, but the House.

The House was almost fifty years old, had five bedrooms, a spacious study and a nice kitchen. The House had a big garage and plenty of space outside, it weathered well and wasn't too hot in summer or cold in winter.

Over the years the House believed it'd seen every sort of person there was to see — that nothing could surprise it any more.

That was until they showed up.

It was the estate agent again, the plump woman who called the House a 'fixer upper' and pointed out all its flaws. She had shown a lot of people around since the House had become empy, but it hadn't liked any of them and they hadn't liked it. Even so, it was getting terribly bored of being empty.

And then they walked in.

"Now this property has been on the market a while, it's… well it has a lot of potential, and you said you were interested in home improvements."

"Yes," murmured one of the three she was showing around, but this wasn't any kind person the House had seen before. He was blue, had a large head and was dressed completely in black. The House thought it remembered seeing him on television a long time ago. The woman was the most normal-looking of the group, and it had absolutely nothing to make of the last one. Part robot, part aquarium it looked like, and the little fish in the top rarely stopped talking all the way through.

"This could be my room!" the fish proclaimed in one of the House's bedrooms. "I'd put up shelves here, and a big tank over there, and my posters could go-"

"Settle down, Minion," the alien said. "We've got plenty of places to look at yet."

"But I like this one, sir," Minion replied. The House decided that it liked him too.

"It is nice," the boss replied, looking around the rooms thoughtfully. "A lot to work with." The House didn't trust him so much, as he gave off the air of someone who liked to change things. A DIY maniac, which it hated. The House didn't feel it needed any changing, and if another person threatened to knock its walls out it was going to drop the ceiling on them.

"I like it too," the woman professed, and walked through to the House's best, its favourite bedroom. "This would make a nice master bedroom." The blue one followed after her, looking in as he rested a hand on the woman's back, the House wondered exactly what sort of strange group the estate agent was bringing round it.

"It's no Evil Lair," he remarked, and the House creaked dismissively.

"Exactly," the woman replied. "That's why I like it." Her partner gave her a weary look, and the House creaked again with pride. Two out of three wasn't that bad.

They walked around a while longer, poking the House in places it didn't like and ignoring everything the estate agent said; for a while the House enjoyed having noise and people around again. It was too quiet being unoccupied, and these three certainly made plenty of noise. When they left, the House hoped they'd come back.

The first time it was just the blue man, who arrived with a car full of tools and strolled right into the middle of the House's kitchen, hands on his hips.

"House, I'm Megamind," he announced boldly — the House wondered if he was mad, but appreciated the introduction nevertheless. "Now, let's get that sink out of the wall."

The House decided he must be mad, and brickwork crumbled in horror as Megamind unhesitatingly ripped all of the appliances out of its kitchen. Some of those were as old as it was, making it heartbroken to see them torn out and thrown into a skip. Megamind wasn't just a DIY-er, he was much, much worse. Then, when the electronics came out the House was really worried.

Megamind installed it with a new kitchen, but it was unlike anything the House could have dreamed of; nothing like the designs various fitters had presented over the years. Everything was smooth and polished, all the doors closed with a soft, cushioned purr; the cooker was a seven-ringed monster that could raise an inferno at the push of a few buttons. There was a blowtorch on one of the walls.

It had a microwave with at least twenty different settings; it could super-heat or freeze, and make a perfect bag of popcorn, to which it added its own salt and butter. It could barbecue, disintegrate and cooked a perfect baked Alaska; it even did something called 'micro-manage', which, when a stack of disorganised forms and receipts were put in, would arrange them into perfect chronological order.

The House had to admit that it was impressive, and decided to forgive Megamind for tearing out its old kitchen. Minion and Roxanne — as that was the woman's name — started to come back too, helping Megamind with his alterations and moving in boxes and boxes of things.

The first time some of the brainbots flew over the House almost bust a pipe out of shock, but it eventually realised they were no different to the pets that had lived in it before, and it soon came to like them too, whirring around the garden bow-wowing at each other and racing after wrenches that their creator — or 'daddy' as he titled himself — threw for them, sometimes right out of the top floor windows.

The brainbots helped with the renovations too, although the House wasn't much impressed with them when they chewed out its stairs and out spat all the mashed-up wood into a skip. The replacement was a beautiful free-standing staircase, which Megamind loved to slide down the banister of when he thought Roxanne wasn't watching him.

A lot of things got painted blue or black, though the House was eternally thankful Roxanne convinced Megamind not to paint its roof blue. Minion painted his own room bright green, which it liked. Roxanne and Megamind's bedroom was a nice neutral white, but the House didn't want to reveal too much of what went on in there.

It took them a few months to get the House the way they wanted it, and the closer they got to completion the stranger the things they brought in were. The House had to adjust to things like a having a brainbot-flap in its back wall and one of its bedrooms being turned into a huge walk-in wardrobe, full of latex and leather. Too many of the appliances were not only voice-activated but talked back if they were in a sassy mood.

However, it did like its new family, unconventional as they were. The day they finally celebrated moving in Roxanne came home from work with a big bottle of champagne, and the three of them stood in the kitchen and toasted.

"To moving in!" Roxanne cheered, and then in a lower tone added, "I'll be happy not to see another cardboard box for the rest of my life." Most of the boxes had been Megamind's — he had piles and piles of them stuffed with papers, which were all hung from the ceiling on string in his study.

The House knew that he was Metro City's hero, not least because he'd installed an alarm that penetrated the whole building when there was an emergency. It was at a frequency that he heard but Roxanne didn't, so they could be asleep in bed and it could ring without waking her up.

When it did go off, Megamind's eyes would open and he'd slowly, carefully extract himself. If Roxanne noticed the movement and half-woke, he'd smooth a hand over her hair, maybe press a kiss to her forehead, and apologise profusely as he slipped out.

That was one advantage to the conversion of one of the bedrooms into a wardrobe, in that he could go in there at any hour of the night and change without causing a disturbance. Sometimes he'd go and get Minion before heading out, but not always.

On the occasions he went without anyone realising, he was usually back by breakast — ready to face a furious argument with Roxanne first, who hated when he left without telling her, then with Minion, who worried when he wasn't there to look after Megamind. However, if he didn't come back, Roxanne and Minion had to go out and find him, sometimes bringing him back in a bad way.

Often, Roxanne woke up as he left and just pretended to go back to sleep, getting up and then waiting in the lounge until he returned, clutching a hot drink in her hand and letting her worry show in her face, as there was no one but the House to see her, anyway. When he finally came back in, tired and sometimes hurt, costumes torn in places, he'd see her waiting for him.

"You shouldn't have," he said every time without fail — sometimes insistent and stern, but at other times exhausted and weak. Regardless of which one it was, he'd limp over to her on the sofa and fall into it; she'd always catch him, literally or not.

Whether it was resting his head in her lap, running light, delicate fingertips over his scalp — his eyes fluttering shut, rolling back — or settling herself across his lap, arm around his shoulders, holding close and comforting as he rested against her. The House once watched her do nothing but examine one of his hands for a good twenty minutes; he'd injured it, and after sealing the wound up, she kept the appendage in hers, tracing over every detail, every line in the palm, each fingertip and nail, the delicate, elongated bones of his fingers and the pale blue hue. When she was done, he'd reached out with the hand and held her face in it, studying her features with the same intense care.

They'd kissed, once, maybe twice, and relaxed again, but were too tired for any great passion. That sort of thing was reserved for days free of heroic endeavours and late-night alarms. Not that the alarm hadn't gone off while they were in bed but not sleeping, which either made for some creative use of language or Megamind outright ignored it — Roxanne couldn't hear the alarm anyway, so there was no way she'd know it had been going off for half an hour unless he accidentally gave it away.

The House saw everything; all the most private moments, the intimate and disarming ones; the House saw them at their most exposed and most vulnerable. Whether it was tears behind closed doors — because no family was without fights — or one of them undone at the other's hands. It was fondest of the little things, like the time Megamind and Roxanne were in the bathroom brushing teeth before bed, and after playfully professing her mouth clean and minty fresh, he asked if he could check, then kissed her, deep, with tongue, right there in front of the mirror. He wasn't always so assertive, but she clearly appreciated it when the mood took him.

It was painfully clear that Megamind adored her — not just loved, but completely and wholly adored — Roxanne was the single most wonderful thing to happen to him, there was a sense of singularity; she was a first and only, she was everything.

At times it seemed like an imbalance in their relationship, because Roxanne didn't hold him up in the same way — he wasn't her whole world — but she connected with him in a special way. The House didn't know who else she'd dated before Megamind, but if she'd ever found what she had with him then she wouldn't be here. She loved him, simply put, and very sincerely.

However, that was not all there was to their household — not by half. At first the House had thought Minion was the closest to a child among them, but it took no time at all to see that wasn't the case; he was everything, from child to best friend to mother — he fussed over Megamind with worry and concern, mended his clothes and knew exactly how he took his tea. Minion would bake and do chores and run the household while Roxanne was at work and Megamind immersed himself in his inventions or duties.

He was the negotiator when Megamind and Roxanne had a fight, throwing things and screaming, but no one ever turned their temper on him. He was always fair, bringing Megamind to admit when he was wrong, or explaining to Roxanne how differently they saw things — why Megamind hadn't meant what he'd said or done the way she thought. Without him, the House was sure they'd all fall apart.

Because, though he loved Roxanne, Megamind needed Minion in a far more fundamental way; the House remembered the one time Minion went away on his own — attending a convention in place of Megamind, who did not want to leave the city abandoned — and for almost a week it had only been him and Roxanne in the house. When she was home he didn't show it so strongly, bar some offhand comments and fragmented conversations about Minion's absence, but when she was out, with no one but the House to see, Megamind was incomplete. As if he didn't miss Minion, but simply didn't know how to get by without him — like he couldn't understand Minion not being there. He asked questions to the air, and looked despondent when no answer came.

They were children together, playing games and pranks while Roxanne worked a nine-to-five job like a respectable career woman. They electrified doorhandles and blasted music out of the House's deafening stereo system, dancing around the kitchen belting out lyrics and trying to flip pancakes at one another, climbing up on the counters and powersliding along to the choruses, then trying to tell Roxanne that the plates 'fell' from the counter and broke on the floor, rather than being kicked out of the way during an AC/DC medley.

Not that Roxanne was innocent of musical numbers herself; she was caught one afternoon singing along to True Colours when she'd thought Megamind and Minion were out in the garage tending to brainbots.

He'd had been about to walk into the kitchen, then stopped upon realising she was mid-way through a rather heartfelt duet with the stereo, clearly unable to resist watching such a rare moment of unselfconsciousness. The House, however, had different ideas, and squeaked a floorboard under his foot. She was quite frosty upon discovery of his voyeurism, and his telling her it was 'adorable' didn't help at all. Roxanne cattily pointed out that she was not the only person in this house to sing and dance when she thought no one was watching, and at least she had the decency not to climb up on the tables when she was doing it.

Much to the House's pleasure, though, that incident didn't escalate into an argument, because when Roxanne turned away to wash up some dishes, he ignored her huff of irritation and just wrapped his arms around her, resting his face in the crook of her neck as she slowly but surely melted into the embrace. It was hard to stay angry with him for long, the House knew, because he balanced every aggravating action with a pleasing one; if he knocked out one of the House's walls, he also tuned up its plumbing until it practically purred.

It felt it had bonded with Roxanne over this endurance of his behaviour, although it doubted she appreciated a fresh coat of paint as much as it did.

Although the House was thrilled with its family, and couldn't criticise them — their peculiarities and all — it did still have empty rooms, and wondered if they'd ever be used for more than storage or guests. Children weren't something they ever talked about; once or twice Roxanne had called Megamind 'broody' for referring to himself as daddy to the brainbots, but he didn't know the meaning of the word, so the accusation was lost on him. The House understood that they didn't touch on the subject if they could help it, because with Megamind being what he was, it was never going to be an easy discussion. If there ever was an option of using science to make biological reproduction possible, it was never seriously considered.

It was actually Minion who played the most instrumental role, in fact; he was the mediator, the mouthpiece for everything Megamind couldn't or wouldn't say himself. When Roxanne wanted to know what he was really thinking, she asked Minion.

"Hey," she asked him one day while 'the boss' — as he was jokingly referred to — was out. "I was wondering, Minion… do you think he's thought about family before?" Minion stopped what he was doing, which happened to be stirring a bowl of cake batter, and glanced up at Roxanne; she'd chosen this moment on purpose, picked a time when Megamind was out and would be so for a while.

"Um… I don't know," Minion answered hesitantly, returning to his mixing. "What do you mean? Aren't we a family?"

"Yeah," she answered, "we are. That's kinda the point." She paused, indecisive in her words — it wasn't an easy conversation, even with Minion. "I meant like… children and stuff. Has he ever mentioned it? Not around me, I mean."

"Um… not really," he replied. "I don't think he wants to talk about something like that."

"Why not?" she probed; she'd occasionally hinted at things like family and children before, but Megamind hadn't ever been forthcoming on the matter.

"Well, because it's not something he'd… he doesn't think it's something he could have," Minion admitted, frowning into his mix like he was betraying his best friend by voicing anything so personal behind his back.

"Why not?" she asked again, and Minion flashed a look up at her that could have been a great deal more friendly.

"Because we're not human," he retorted bluntly, "because he's not- I mean, because you can't…"

"But there are other ways," Roxanne answered with complete composure. "That's why I don't understand."

"Wh… there are?" Minion said with a timid surprise.

"Well sure," she answered. "Of course. Plenty of couples aren't able or choose not to have children biologically. I mean, there's a whole system for children who need adoption."

"Oh," Minion remarked.

"Oh? You didn't know about that?" she pushed.

"I suppose we never thought about it before," he remarked.

"Never thought about it?" she echoed. "But… but Metro Man was adopted, you guys were adopted… sort of. You really mean that this whole time he's been freezing up because when I mention children he thinks I mean by birth?"

"Uhh…" Minion murmured uncertainly.

"Wow, so I guess things make more sense now," she sighed, rubbing a hand across her forehead. "Believe me, Minion, pregnancy and childbirth are two things I'd very happily avoid in my lifetime."

"Well I… see, this is all new to us," Minion explained hesitantly. "I don't think he believes he could ever be a… um…"

"A father?" she interjected as he trailed off. "Tell me, Minion. Honestly. Do you think he could?" Minion's mixing arm slowed. He floated in his tank, oscillating fins gently, and then looked directly at Roxanne, and nodded.

"Yeah…" he said quietly. "I think so." They paused for a moment, taking in the gravity of the statement, and then Roxanne kept on going.

"Do you think he's scared?" she said, still trying to pry into Megamind's mind through his closest confident.

"I think you should talk to him," Minion said a little curly, and she drew her lips tightly together in a cross between a pout and a grimace. "Does it mean a lot to you?" he asked a moment later.

"What? Having kids? I guess," she replied pensively. "I just… it's like we never talk about it, and I think it's something we could consider. What do you think? I mean, you're part of the family too." Again Minion was quiet and still, thinking over his words.

"I'd like it," he replied at last. "I think it would be nice, having a… child. But do you…" he piped up and broke away at the last moment. "Do you think it's something we could really do?" he questioned, as if he were asking whether they could fly winged pigs over the rainbow to find gold.

"Why not?" Roxanne put to him. "I mean, we're not the most conventional family, but that's not a reason to discount it."

"I suppose not… but we… we'll have to talk to him about it," Minion pointed out resolutely. "He's not going to confront it on his own."

"I guessed that much," she said with resignation. "Would you help me, though?"

"Sure," he replied, offering her a smile. So together they got Megamind when he was in a good mood, and sat down in the living room and put the issue to him in clear, concise, written-out-beforehand words.

At first he tried to avoid the matter, but after they explained that no talk of biology or reproductive systems were not going to be involved, he became more pliable on the topic. Roxanne was careful to make clear that even if there was some way to make a natural pregnancy, she wouldn't want it anyway — she had her career and appearance on television to think of. There were thousands of children in care, she explained, and Megamind sat there looking like he'd never thought of orphanages anything more than a fuel source for villainy was never any intention to get an answer or bring about a final decision, Minion and Roxanne simply wanted to pull the topic out of the shadows.

Megamind referred to himself as daddy to the brainbots, indicating some kind of paternal instinct. They were happy already, but they posed the question to him — could there be more? Could they make someone else happy too? And he did think about it. Not much more than a week after the first conversation, during a weekend lie-in, he brought it up all by himself.

"Roxanne," he murmured, and she looked up from her book. "You remember the talk we had about," he paused for only a breath, "children."

"Uhuh," she answered, glancing over at him.

"Were you serious?"

"Was I serious?" she echoed disdainfully. "Are you asking me if I said it as some kind of a joke?"

"No… I just…" he muttered brokenly, and Roxanne let out an exasperated sigh; Minion had been the same too.

"Yes, I'm serious," she said plainly, and reached across to lay a hand on his arm. "I think you should be serious, too. There's no reason not to be."

"Would I… could I, be a parent?" he questioned, as if he would not trust himself with the task.

"I think we could give a kid a good, if slightly weird, home," she answered, and then squeezed on the arm she held. "It's normal to be scared," she told him. "It's not because you're different, everyone feels like that."

"They do?" He sounded so surprised, fixated on the ways he was not like people, missing the ways he was exactly the same. Everyone had their reasons for thinking they were terrible parent material.

"Are you kidding? It's a whole, easily-screwed-up life that you're meant to raise," she blurted. "I used to go into a cold sweat just thinking about it."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," she insisted. "I'm hardly ideal mother material. Aunt, perhaps, or maybe friend of a mother, but an actual mother? The idea terrifies me if I think too hard," she confessed.

"So why do you want to do it?" he put to her, and she was awkward for a moment, as if no one had actually been able to pin her down to the confession before — that yes, she wanted a child.

"Because…" she breathed, "because it's something I wouldn't want to miss," she said at last, "and it's not just that I want a family, I want one with you," she added suddenly, and the House could practically feel every muscle in his body seize for a moment. It filled the silence with creaks and ticking plumbing, until finally Roxanne spoke again in a soft, sincere voice.

"I think you'd be a good father."

Megamind looked like she'd hit him, and just stared, speechless, for a long while; nothing but glassy green eyes and total shock.

"I…" he said in a voice hidden under breath, almost too muffled to be heard, glancing down at his hands over the covers of their bed. "I guess that makes one of us," he murmured.

"Actually, that makes two," she corrected, and he looked up again. "Minion agrees with me," she told him, and this time he looked more flattered than stunned. The House didn't want to get its hopes up, but it liked the way things were going. It watched Megamind talking to Minion about it, away from Roxanne, how they recounted their past; the lonely trauma of isolation. They had each other, but there could be a child with no one, not even a Minion. That was what really settled things for them.

So they took the decision to Roxanne and said if they were going to think about fostering, Megamind wanted to look for a special kind of child; someone who needed them, who they could help. He thought that ff they could find a child like he'd been, maybe they could break the pattern before it began. She couldn't agree more, and had never been one for babies in the first place.

So that was how they started communicating with foster homes, then going out to visit and coming back full of uncertainty, reflecting on the propensity of children to scream and how none of them seemed quite right.

Minion didn't go with them to the foster homes, as his presence was known to worry carers and frighten children at first, so the House could identify with him as he sat there fretting and wondering what was happening. Then one day Megamind came back from an almost-routine visit and said nothing all evening, not a word. Minion didn't know whether to take it as good or bad, but a few glances and nods from Roxanne gave away which it was.

They hadn't seen the boy before because he'd been placed with a foster family at the time they'd started looking; however, it hadn't worked out and he'd recently come back into the care system. Minion wanted to press for details, but Megamind was deeply set in thought, and he had to go to Roxanne. The child's name was Dexter, he was eight years old, and although bright, he had trouble fitting in with other children. Later that night, as Megamind and Roxanne lay in bed, his front to her back, arms wrapped around her body, he spoke against her neck, soft words across her skin.

"Roxanne," he murmured. "I think he's the one."

* * *

TBC.


	2. Chapter 2

Here we meet the kid! Glad to see some people are reading/enjoying the fic, unusual as it is.

* * *

From finding the child Megamind and Roxanne wanted to adopt - which had only seemed like the hard part - things were depressingly slow. The House had to wait twice as long as Minion to meet the boy, because at the start all they did was go out to visit him in the home, answering questions, filling out forms, and then taking him for afternoons in the city. There was sparingly little said, so the House felt rather like the ignorant party until the day he finally came to visit it.

The invisible car pulled up in the drive and Megamind got out, followed by Minion from the passenger's seat, and then from the back climbed Roxanne and a small boy with dark hair. The return of their master, as well as a stranger, excited several of their favourite brainbots, who swarmed over and the child almost jumped straight back in the car.

"No!" Megamind said sternly to the robots, donking several on their domes. "Be nice."

"You don't need to be afraid of them," Roxanne said soothingly to the boy. "They only bite Megamind."

"That's not true!" he squawked, but the House knew otherwise. The brainbots never so much as scratched Roxanne once she'd been accepted as part of the pack, and even behaved themselves around Minion; it was only their 'daddy' that they liked to chew on. "Go away," he urged the brainbots, shooing them off to the tune of disappointed bow-wowing.

Eventually they coaxed the boy into the House, but he said very little, and seemed ill at ease and uncomfortable, which the House felt bad about because it was doing its very best to be welcoming and friendly. The most enthusiastic he ever became was when Megamind took him up to his study, awing the child with his ceiling-hung illustrations and plans. On Megamind's suggestion, Dex, as they called him, did some drawings of his own, and looked secretly thrilled as Megamind strung them up along with the rest of his work.

The House had raised many children within its walls in its time, but Dexter was not like the others. He was quiet, too quiet for a young boy, who ought to be running around and crashing into things. His drawings were far beyond anything that other children his age, detailed and technical to a degree unusual eight-year old - at least, not by the House's judgement. He spoke very little, and although Roxanne and Minion were friendly and sweet to him, he interacted warily. It wasn't the way the House had expected things to be. Only Megamind seemed able to get any real connection out of him, and those were only fleeting moments.

He only stayed for a few hours that time, but came back the next week, and the next, staying for longer periods. It was a few months after the first visit, and he sat cross-legged on the floor of Megamind's study, poring over a piece of paper almost as big as he was, while Megamind worked on a highly detailed blueprint for a new machine he was going to build.

"Dexter," Megamind started without looking up from his work, and paused for an acknowledgement that didn't come. "Do you like it here?"

"... Uhuh," the boy murmured, still concentrating on his drawing.

"Would you like to stay here?" he asked next.

"For how long?" the boy asked.

"Forever," Megamind answered with a quiet, unassuming, and that was enough to made him stop drawing.

"With you?" the child questioned, as if it might not be part of the deal.

"Yes, with me and Roxanne and Minion," he specified. Dexter said nothing, and started to draw again. "You don't have to answer now," Megamind offered, "but... if you wanted to, we would say yes. Just so you know."

"Hm," the boy murmured. "Okay," he said, only acknowledging the statement rather than answering it, and then he was quiet again. Minion came up with tea and juice a little later, and also took to the floor for the drawing workshop. Soon Roxanne joined them, wondering where everyone had gone; lacking any skill at drawing, she folded pieces of paper into birds, hats and flowers, which Dexter seemed to find rather entertaining.

"Can we hang them all up?" he asked when they were finished.

"Sure," Roxanne answered, catching a ball of string as Minion tossed it to her. "Say," she added on, with a performed air of calm, her best television face. "Why don't we put them in your room?" The boy looked at her with surprise and a little suspicion.

"Could I?" he queried.

"Well it's your room," she insisted.

"It is?"

"Of course," she told him. "It sure isn't anyone else's." Dex didn't react to much, as closed off and shielded as he was, but for that moment he looked genuinely happy. That was probably when he started to believe he might have a place in the House - when all four of them went to his room and hung up the first mobiles. After that, it was only a month or so until he came for good, arriving with a small bag of things and a fearful expression, as if he couldn't trust in what was happening to him. It was an expression the House alone caught on Megamind at times; disbelief and suspicion that things could go well, like they were waiting for the catch or the punchline.

The House had thought that from there everything would go well, but the first few weeks were hard, very hard. Dexter stayed in his room most of the time, and would stress and become upset if anyone came in without his permission, which he rarely gave. He still came down for meals, but seemed scared to speak, and the harder anyone tried to get a reaction out of him the more closed off he became. They all became exasperated and frustrated with the situation; it wasn't meant to be like this, so hard and unnatural. The House sympathised - with a young child or baby, reliance and love came as part of the package. Purely by merit of being born the child would trust them, but Dexter was a little too old and sceptical beyond his years. He didn't open up to them automatically, didn't consider them family.

Megamind found Roxanne once almost at breaking point once, staring into space aimlessly, barely reacting even as he sat beside her and spoke to her, asking usual things about her day; putting the gloss over the ugly surface, though all it did was shine up the imperfections.

"This isn't how I imagined it would be," he managed to coax from her. "It's not..." she cut off with an upset gasp, and Megamind just smoothed a hand across her shoulders.

"I know," he murmured, "I know." He was the least despondent of them all, probably because of the three of them he was still the one Dex communicated with most; they would still draw together in his study, and the mobiles and drawings hung from walls and ceilings steadily increased. Megamind was the only one who'd been 'allowed' into his room in quite a while.

Things came to a head not long after that; Dexter had been at school and Minion had gone into his room on routine cleaning, not realising that when he came back it would take the boy all of thirty seconds to realise someone had been in there and start to shriek. Roxanne was out at the time - she had the best talent for calming him down when he was hysterical - so it was only Megamind and Minion there to deal with him. Rational instruction did not seem to work, and Megamind was about to reach the end of his tether.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Minion insisted over and over, and then Megamind finally spoke up; enough was enough.

"No, Minion," he interjected. "You don't need to apologise. It's everyone's house." Dexter looked up at Megamind with ultimate betrayal, eyes red and teary, and tucked his knees up to his chest.

"No, really, its okay, I shouldn't have-" Minion started.

"No," Megamind insisted. "He can't scream to get his way, that isn't how rules are made." Dexter's face sunk down against his legs, hidden from view. "Dexter," he said firmly. "Do you understand?" There was no reaction. "Minion is sorry," he said, "but you shouldn't scream at him." Still nothing. "Dexter," he snapped, and reached out to try and pry him open like a shellfish. The moment he touched the boy, he screamed again, and started in on floods of tears even worse than before.

"I'll... I'll get some tissues," Minion blurted uncomfortably, dashing off as Megamind steadied himself and reached for the boy again, holding him by the shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked helplessly; this breakdown was too much, there was something off about the whole secenario - he'd never been like this before he moved in. Something had changed, but none of them knew what.

"Suh- suh," the boy gasped hysterically, and Megamind took to rubbing his back.

"Calm, be calm," he hushed. "What is it? You can tell me."

"Suh... huh," the child gasped, a little quieter than before. "Your... you're-" He sobbed a little more, and Megamind watched on as if his heart could break.

"Dexter, please," he said quietly, and the boy managed to peer out through his tears to see the expression he was being fixed with; the intense, soul-stripping stare. If there anything that could get through to the boy, it would be that look. It reduced Roxanne to nothing, even Minion couldn't stand it for long.

"Yourgonsendmeback," he burst at last, the fear and hurt renewing in more crying. Megamind sat back, stunned momentarily.

"Send you... back?" he echoed. "You mean, to the foster home?" Dexter had curled up again, sobbing and rocking. "No," Megamind said, "no, no, no."

"They don't... don't like m- I'm not, I can't," the boy sobbed.

"Dexter, stop, listen to me," he pleaded, prying the child's arms away from his legs. "You think it's going to be that easy to get away from us?" It wasn't the sort of thing he expected to hear - not a scripted platitude, and Dex chanced a peek up at him, more confused than anything. "You're never going back," he said resolutely. "Never. You're stuck with us forever."

"But I-"

"But nothing," he insisted. "This is your home too - all of our's home. Not just for a little while, for good." It made sense now; to Megamind and the House - they'd seen Dexter's file, talked about it when he wasn't there.

The reason it'd taken them so long to find him in the first place was because he'd been placed with a family which hadn't worked out, and that hadn't the first. He'd been through several unsuccessful attempts at fostering - he didn't mesh with other kids, and no amount of help or caring had ever been able to make him happy, especially not in a place where there were other children to contend with.

That was probably why things changed when he moved in; up until then it'd been building up to something good, but once he'd passed that point and actually been placed, it was only waiting for things to go wrong again - waiting to go back and start the process over. He was smart and sceptical beyond his years, and still a frightened, fragile child who didn't want to be abandoned.

"I know what it's like to feel like you don't belong, Dex," Megamind started anew, holding out a hand in front of him. "Look at me, I'm actually an alien. I've always been different, and I know people send you away for that - but no one's going to send you away for not fitting in here. You belong here, I promise."

"B-but you're angry at me," the boy offered in a small, shaking voice.

"At times we might be, but you'll still always belong here," he insisted. "You're part of the family."

"J-just saying that," the child murmured weakly. "Everyone says it."

"I mean it," Megamind rounded back. "What can we do to prove it to you?"

"I don't know," the boy sniffed, and then let out a shuddering sigh, trying to catch his breath again; he'd exhausted himself. Megamind patted him on the shoulder again.

"Can I tell you something, Dex?" he asked simply, and the boy glanced at him curiously. "When I was your age," Megamind started. "I didn't get on with people either. Other children didn't like me, my teachers didn't like me. Minion was my only friend."

"... Really?" the child questioned, disbelieving and naive; he was young enough that he only knew Megamind the hero, never the villain.

"Yes. I lived in a place that was like a foster home but worse," he continued. "They let me out sometimes, but I always got sent back sooner or later."

"Where?" he inquired, unable to think of a place worse than where he'd come from. Megamind thought there was no sense disguising it.

"Prison," he answered. "I lived in prison."

He gasped a little, old enough to know that criminals went to prison. "What did you do?" Dex asked with shock.

"At first, nothing," he replied. "I was sent there by accident when I was just a baby, but I soon did things that made them keep me there. I thought there was nowhere else I belonged, but," he started with great importance, "I was wrong. Roxanne showed me that a long time ago, and we found a place together. And no one here is ever thrown out or sent back. Do you understand?" Dexter hesitated at first, but then nodded, rubbing his eyes. He was silent for a while, but the urge to speak rose up in him like springwater.

"Can... I ask you something?" he phrased with shallow, timid words, and Megamind nodded. "Why didn't anyone like you?" he asked meekly, and Megamind settled back, crossing his legs on the floor.

"I don't know," he confessed. "I was different, maybe. Do you ever feel like that?" The boy nodded, keeping his legs tucked close to him. "Well," he added, "even if you are different, I like you. So do Roxanne and Minion."

"You mean it?"

"Yes, we mean it. You can ask them yourself. We want you to be happy, Dex, so if something upsets you, you have to tell us. Crying won't help."

"O-okay," he murmured in acquisition, rubbing his nose messily. It was becoming quite a state.

"Uh... where's Minion with those tissues?" Megamind remarked awkwardly, and craned around only to see Minion already standing by the door, box between his paws. After cleaning up and blowing his nose, Dexter seemed calmer, as if the storm had weakened a little - or he may just have been too tired to protest further too, as he'd worn himself out with so much distress.

"Would you like to do some drawing?" Megamind offered, and he shrugged. Megamind put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Hm, well, I have a deal for you," he remarked dramatically, which got the boy's attention from the show if nothing else. "If you draw a machine, I will build it," he declared. Dexter looked at him as if he was mad. Which wasn't really that unreasonable a conclusion to make at times.

"Build it?" he echoed, as if he thought Megamind had just got the wrong words.

"Yes, I'll build it," he insisted. "Whatever it is. As wild as you can imagine." The boy's brow furrowed. "Do you think I can't?" Megamind challenged. "If you can draw something that I can't build, you win."

"And what happens if I win?" Dex enquired, clearly interested by the challenge, and ever-enthused as children were with the idea of winning something.

"Hmm, what do you think, Minion?" he asked.

"Well... how about a dare?" he offered. "If you lose, sir, then you have to... save the city wearing a chicken suit, or something." Dexter laughed suddenly, and then looked shocked when they both glanced at him, as if they'd managed to trick the reaction out of him.

"That sounds... reasonable," Megamind agreed a little begrudgingly, and then held out a hand each to Minion and one to Dexter. "Shall we shake on it?"

They all shook hands, and then Dexter set to work. His first creation was a breakfast-making machine, like ones he'd seen on television, so it was only natural that by the time that Roxanne arrived home the kitchen was full of chutes, tubes and pieces of string: Megamind was hard at work preparing a creation that could make a cooked breakfast for four in the most inefficient and spectacular way possible.

Her reaction probably would have been much worse had Dexter not come up to her the moment she walked in, explaining the situation in such an animated rush that she couldn't get a word in edgeways. The pride with which he pointed out the ferris wheel that carried eggs, the spiral tube for syphoning orange juice, and how they were all his ideas, showed more enthusiasm than they'd ever seen from him before.

So naturally, the first thing she asked Megamind when they were alone, was how the hell had he done it. He explained the situation her as best he could, and then the next thing she did was hug him.

"I told you," she murmured in his ear, arms locked tightly around his neck. "I told you you'd make a good father." He quickly reciprocated, arms circling her waist.

"Well, I'd be nothing without you," he replied, and after that the House didn't worry so much about whether things would work out.


End file.
